


Keep My Heart Slow

by Zivitz



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Babyfic, Gen, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:54:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26064568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zivitz/pseuds/Zivitz
Summary: Marcus spends time with his new baby.
Relationships: Abby Griffin/Marcus Kane
Comments: 16
Kudos: 40





	Keep My Heart Slow

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kabby_Kru](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kabby_Kru/gifts).



> _Raise my hands  
>  Paint my spirit gold  
> And bow my head  
> Keep my heart slow_

It felt like years since he sat across from Abby at her desk listening with increasing concern as she rambled about human chorionic gonadotropin levels. When he’d finally reached across the desk to take her hand and asked if he should be worried, she’d blurted out, ‘I’m pregnant’ and his world had been shaken to its core. In that instant he could never have imagined how much his world could change.

There were diapers drying on the line in their quarters and Abby was sleeping on the bed with the baby to her breast as Marcus folded the rather sizeable wardrobe their son had managed to accrue in his few days on earth. _On Earth_ , he marveled, setting aside a too-large sweater that was still damp. He had a child with Abby Griffin, a _son_ , who was born on Earth. If someone had told him that two years ago he would have laughed himself sick and offered to have said Dr. Griffin perform a psychological evaluation. The reality, though, felt like a gift he never knew he wanted.

When the baby unlatched and began fussing, Abby started to get up.

“Don’t,” he said. “I’ll take him.”

“Are you sure?” she asked, her eyes already half closed and her head back on the pillow.

“You need your rest. You can take the next turn.” Marcus took the baby with still-uncertain hands, and once he was safely ensconced in one arm, used his free hand to draw the blanket over her bare shoulders.

She took his hand as he drew back and smiled without opening her eyes. “Thank you.”

The baby mewled softly, not quite worked up to full volume and instead sounding like a lost kitten calling for its mother. Marcus threw a cloth over his shoulder and moved the baby to rest there, rubbing the little back and making soothing sounds.

It had been four days and he was getting better at this. Abby promised he was, and he had to take it on faith that she was telling the truth. He felt incredibly like he was taking a test he hadn’t studied for, but when he’d whispered his fears to Abby that first night together with the child they’d made, she reassured him everyone felt like that. It was true that his diaper folding technique had improved, even he could tell that, and he wasn’t nearly as afraid of handling the baby as he’d been when Jackson had first put him in his arms.

The baby burped, and Marcus wiped the curds and whey from his child’s mouth. Settling them both in the rocking chair that was gifted to them by someone or other- Abby was keeping track, thank God, or everyone would think them incredibly ungrateful- he brought the baby to rest in the crook of his elbow and began moving them slowly back and forth. The baby blinked up at him with deep blue eyes, and Marcus smiled.

“You,” he whispered, “Are the most precious thing to ever happen.” A little fist flailed in the air and Marcus caught it with a finger; the little fingers reflexively curled and squeezed around it. He glanced at Abby, snoring softly. “Don’t tell your mother I said that. But I think she’d probably agree. Or at least put you up there next to your sister.” He pored over the baby as little lids closed, taking in the tiny yawn like a drowning man takes air. Trying to memorize every moment, knowing these firsts will get lost in the drudgery of the every day soon and not wanting to let go of that wonder just yet.

He wasn’t a young man any more, and this late in life child whose existence was so unexpected was something he meant to treasure. Four days and he felt drunk on love, more even than when he first kissed Abby in that not-quite-empty corridor. Everything about this child was perfect, from the way his features reflected his parentage to the shock of dark hair to his shapely fingers and toes. Marcus had always thought new parents tiresome in their adoration of their offspring- each child was valued and valuable, obviously, as a means to prolong the survival of the human race- but surely they couldn’t be any more important or valuable than any other.

Then he watched Abby’s belly grow round with his child and knew this one, this one was the most special of all. More than the fact he’d be the first child their society saw born on Earth in over a hundred years. He was the product of overcoming remarkable odds, not least of which was his parents’ relationship. The pregnancy hadn’t been particularly easy, Abby complaining about ‘advanced maternal age’ and muttering about ‘geriatric pregnancy’ and how she forgot how much everything hurt or maybe that was just because she was an old woman now. There came a day when there was cramping and blood- far too much blood- and they were both terrified they would lose this precious thing they hadn’t known they wanted. There were reduced hours and bedrest and a procedure involving stitches that he didn’t want to know too much about.

But he made it, this little fighter who fast asleep. Warm and dry, belly full and rocked in his father’s arms, Marcus watched his son’s eyes move as he dreamed whatever newborns dream about. Marcus himself leaned back in the rocker, closing his eyes as he gently rocked them back and forth, and thought about all of the wonderful days that stretched before them.


End file.
